


a juniberry by any other name

by sunnyjolras



Series: Klance AU Month [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Lance (Voltron), Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galtean AU, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Klance AU Month 2019, Klance Month 2019, M/M, Romeo and Juliet References, its literally the balcony scene guys idk what to tell you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 04:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17676200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyjolras/pseuds/sunnyjolras
Summary: It was all too much. The blue glow of the crystals, the fading echoes of violins and deep laughter, the gentle touches on his waist, the restricting collar of his dress shirt, the mask that was cast aside on the balcony ledge, the constant surveillance, the circlet on his head.The ball. The meeting.The war.Tonight wasn’t supposed to have been like this, shouldn’t have ended this way.Yet it did.Or; a Klance Romeo and Juliet inspired verse, which takes place in a Galtean AU.





	a juniberry by any other name

**Author's Note:**

> Finally posting this one, go me! However, i'm not marking this as complete as I have a feeling I want to come back to this one and write some more, expand on it a little. Let me know if you're interested in seeing that.
> 
> For this fic I'd like to thank both Kate and Dina, who helped me beta. You are the real MVP's.
> 
> Onto the next one!! 
> 
> Please leave a kudos or a comment if you enjoyed. Ily all <33

The stars were not in view tonight.

There were clouds present in the night sky. They blocked the stars from sight. They obscured the moons, the galaxies, the comets and the fleeting light shows of warping ships. Lance stood, his head tilted up to the sky in search of a star, a guiding light to help him confront his tumultuous thoughts, but there was nothing. He was illuminated only by the few crystals scattered throughout the architecture, the only decoration on otherwise bare, barren walls, yet he felt as though darkness was enveloping him.

He felt it was fitting.

There was enough light to clearly see the orchard however, and the stone walls that encased it. Those walls towered high, so high that Lance could only barely see over them from his second-floor balcony. He could only just see the juniberry meadows, the streetlights from the nearest village, the shadows of mountains on the horizon. He had to squint, strain his eyes to see them, but they were there, out there, beyond the walls. A world of possibilities, of zero obligations, of no rules or wars or balls or walls.

The walls he hated, the ones that practically imprisoned him in his own home, secluded away in their remote estate, never allowed to leave without permission, leave without an escort, leave for more than a few hours.

Yes, the darkness truly was fitting.

Lance placed his hands on the ledge separating him from falling off the balcony and sighed. The orchard was quiet, as per usual. The orchard was a sanctuary, and he was glad his rooms overlooked it. He’d much rather be by himself out here, instead of residing nearer the common areas of the estate, the places the public roamed, or near the wing where his siblings resided, where his parents roomed. There weren’t as many guards in this wing, not to guard the youngest of five, so he had the illusion of some semblance of privacy. That, and the quiet, were things he was normally grateful for, a brief reprieve in duties and a chance to take some time for himself, but after tonight?

It now just felt stifling.

He still stood there though, upon his balcony, looking out at the orchard and thinking.

The juniberries were in bloom.

It was a nice, welcome thought. Throughout the orchard, there were scattered pink patches that surrounded the fruiting trees. They were his mother’s favourite flower, and so his father had ordered the gardeners to plant them throughout the estate, as a declaration of love for her. For years, that had been all that Lance had wanted, those loving moments, but now it just filled him with dread.

For he had finally felt love, the touch of someone he just knew was the one, only to have the truth of that love be exposed in such a heart-wrenchingly, painful way.

The distant, dying trills of an orchestra echoed through the orchard for a moment, as Lance put his head in his hands and began to weep silently.

It was all too much. The blue glow of the crystals, the fading echoes of violins and deep laughter, the gentle touches on his waist, the restricting collar of his dress shirt, the mask that was cast aside on the balcony ledge, the constant surveillance, the circlet on his head.

The ball. The meeting.

The war.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to have been like this, shouldn’t have ended this way.

Yet it did.

A masquerade ball was a simple idea in theory. His father, a courtier in the Altean council and one of the king’s trusted advisers, wished to entertain some diplomats and his fellow council members in the King’s absence. The war with the Galra was taxing, and the King had to try and negotiate with nearby planets to join their alliance. So his father, loyal as he was, deemed it upon himself to entertain the existing allies with a party in their estate.

And so Lance went, the youngest of five, to a ball he had little interest in attending. He was no diplomat, like his eldest brother Luis, nor a scientist, like Veronica. He didn’t have Rachel’s elegance nor Marco’s warrior-like strength. All he could do was stand there and converse with anyone who thought he was worth talking to, which never lasted for long. At least the masquerade ball meant they were all masked, all identities hidden until revealed, so Lance could straighten his back and pretend, even for the briefest of moments, that he held more weight in the world than he did.

He kissed the backs of ladies hands, tried his best to keep up in conversation, and fooled the dignitaries with his poise and charisma.

Then, as per usual, they found out who he was. Lance, the fifth child of an Altean advisor, Lance, with no talents or achievements of note to his name, Lance, the coddled youngest with paranoid parents reluctant to let him leave the estate due to the constant fighting, the rising tensions.

Hands were retracted, conversations erred and dignitaries merely walked away.

He would be alone.

Then there was him.

Lance, dressed in all white, a high collared vest with open shoulder chiffon sleeves, mask detailed with feathers and pearls, circlet resting in his hair, froze; all because of the tall beauty who he had locked eyes with. His mask was red, covering his entire face instead of the half face model Lance had, only revealing his eyes and his mouth. Lance gave a smile, and the man approached, and Lance was excited; excited to introduce himself to someone who came to him and not from Lance butting in himself, excited for someone to talk to.

And talk they did.

They talked for hours.

It started off mundane, mere pleasantries, but then devolved into more. Planets they had seen, their favourite constellations, people they had met. Making fun of the courtiers around them, how uppity they appeared. Their largest fears, their highest hopes, their deepest desires. They danced around, a hand laying on Lance’s waist, as they giggled at funny stories. They escaped to the back of the halls to have more serious conversations, shuffling closer as if magnetised.

Every touch was electric, a raw connection amplified by the merest brush of skin on skin. Pressed against each other, Lance couldn’t help but gasp at all that he felt. It wasn’t overwhelming, it wasn’t at all too much, it felt right. Too right. Perfect, maybe.

His name was Keith, and he wanted to kiss him, to hold him, to know him.

And perhaps Lance knew, knew that Keith wanted those things too. To know him, to hold him, to kiss him.

So he did.

With whispered teases, they kissed behind a pillar, grateful for the mask’s design. His eyes were closed, he was pressed against a chest, and he stayed there until the kiss no longer lingered. Keith held him close, that hand on his waist holding him with almost bruising pressure, yet Lance found that he did not mind.

They had kissed, and kissed, and kissed. They removed themselves from the hall so that they could kiss in the corridor, and then they moved to the entrance way to kiss by there, and then they moved to the garden, and they kissed some more.

He placed his hand on the side of Keith’s face and pressed his lips against his once more, and that was the beginning of his troubles. In placing his hand on Keith’s cheek, he moved the mask aside.

Now standing on his second-floor balcony, looking out at the orchard, he cried as he recalled his shock at the violet hue of Keith’s skin.

Galran.

How fitting, how it was all so fitting.

How fitting that his only love came from his only hate.

He never got an explanation, never got an answer for why he was there. He had sat there in shock, a panicked gasp escaping his lips. He had watched as Keith’s eyes grew confused, but then came to an all-too-sudden realisation. Lance didn’t even have time to ask, to demand to know why Keith was here, why he was doing this, why he was Galran. A servant had come out looking for him, telling him that his family were looking for him to help close the ball, and Lance knew he needed to get back inside lest his father try and sic the guards upon him. He had seen Keith mouth the word ‘Altean?’. Lance could practically feel his heart rip at the silent word, knowing that it had to be over. Keith knew that he was Altean, that he was a member of the estate, even. He panicked once more, announced he was returning to the ball, and ran back inside.

So here he was.

Alone upon his balcony, the violins fading into nothingness in the background. No light from the sky, no viable love to be found.

The war with the Galra was a horrific affair. Many lives had been lost, many planets destroyed. Emperor Zarkon was hell-bent on universal domination, and his people blindly followed him. They were evil, feared.

Yet Keith had not been like that.

“Oh Keith,” Lance sighed, wiping his eyes with one hand and leaning his head against the other, “why must you be Galran?”

He sighed again, and moved to sit upon the ledge. He let his feet dangle, smoothing out and adjusting his outfit, stifling collar and loose sleeves and all, until he was comfortable. He spoke into the dead of night, into the quiet orchard with the sprawling trees and dead patches amongst the flowers. “Please, against all hope, appear and tell me that you do not side with the emperor, that you deny your people’s following, and you fight for what is right.”

“Or-” Lance paused. He looked up at the stars again, and thought back once more. The kisses pressed against his lips, that devilish hand on his waist, the whispered conversations. They were all so gentle, so kind, so loving. Sure, he had come to see some other parts of Keith in the conversation they had that lasted hours. He knew he was more temperamental than what he was in the ball, more impulsive and impatient judging from his stories of planetary adventures. Yet he knew, in his heart, that Keith couldn’t be like the Zarkon loyalists, couldn’t be like the stories he had heard.

Maybe it didn’t matter that he was Galran.

Maybe he wasn’t what he feared, maybe he was what Lance wanted, needed even.

Maybe he was overthinking this.

Love was simple, wasn’t it?

“Or let us both go, far away from here, where no one would mind that you are Galran and that I am Altean, and we can be together.”

He looked up at the sky once more, and sighed, this time a little happier. What did it matter? The war was lasting eons and showed no sign of slowing, so what did it matter if he ran away? He had no use here on Altea, no purpose, just a son of a noble tucked away.

Couldn’t he be selfish, just for once, and be happy?

As he looked up at the sky once more, the clouds parting to reveal the moons and the stars, he knew somewhere deep within himself, that he would be happy merely being with Keith. To fall in love.

He had felt so comfortable, so loved, with him earlier. Why did that need to change?

“You know, why does it even matter that you’re Galran?” He sighed again, a small wistful smile beginning to show on his face. Screw the dread, and the hopelessness, he drew up all the wonderful giddiness and love he had felt earlier that evening and kept it wrapped around him. He was happy. “You would be Keith if you were Altean, or Olkarion, or Balmeran, so Galran is no different, yes? You are not the planet you come from, or the people you grew up with. You are you, and your soul would be the same.”

“A flower is a flower, and a juniberry by any other name, on any other planet, would smell just as sweet.”

“I’ll take you at your word.”

Lance startled, and promptly nearly fell off the ledge. He heard a gasp of surprise below him, and managed to catch himself before he plummeted. He looked down, towards the orchard ground, and gasped when he saw who it was.

“Keith.”

He stood there amongst the juniberries, mask now in his hand. He smiled up at Lance oh so openly, and Lance felt his heart skip.

“Lance.” Keith spoke, almost reverently, looking up at him. “May I join you?”

Lance felt he couldn’t nod fast enough.

There was a soft chime of a laugh, and suddenly Keith was walking along the path to the trellis against the wall. He took a moment to gather himself and the began climbing, taking his time and all his concentration. Lance smiled to himself, swinging his legs back over the ledge so that he was sitting facing inwards. He watched intently, looking at the swell of Keith’s arms as he climbed, the shape of his back, the hair on his nape.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Keith arrived to Lance’s balcony. He stepped onto it and slowly walked towards him. Lance remained seated as Keith approached him, smiling in anticipation. “You-” Keith started, an indigo flush forming on his violet skin. He raised his hand and rubbed his thumb over Lance’s cheekbones. Where his Altean markings lay. “You are Altean.”

“Yes.” Lance breathed. “You are Galran.”

“Yes.” Keith repeated.

An impasse grew between them. Lance used it to finally study Keith’s face. There was a stark purple marking upon his cheek, a scar towards his hairline, and surprisingly he had rounded eyes with irises that you could miss at first glance, lost within the golden sclera. He was beautiful.

“You are beautiful.”

Lance was not the one to say that.

“Huh?”

“You are one of the most beautiful people I have ever had the fortune to meet.” Keith replied, smiling widely. “It is as you said, let us not be Altean or Galran, let us just be people, just Keith and Lance. We are just people, and you? You are the most beautiful of them all.”

Lance blushed profusely, and averted his eyes. “Huh.” He stumbled over his words, catching himself before he made himself a fool. “You flatter me so unexpectedly. I wouldn’t have pegged you to be such an avid complementor.”

“I only speak the truth.”

Lance suddenly turned his head and looked Keith straight in the eye. “Yet you do not speak of your own beauty, and that should be the most obvious.”

“You like to tease.”

“I only speak the truth.” Lance replied, trying to lilt his voice and mimic Keith’s. He had the desired effect when it pulled a laugh out of Keith. “You are beautiful too.”

Another pause, as they both looked at each other intently. Lance stood up, took a breath, and spoke. “We are opposite sides of a war.” He stated. It was his true fear, that they could not be together, and it hurt to speak. Yet, it needed to be spoken. “I fear that this, this connection we have, is futile.”

“No.”

No? Lance widened his eyes at the quick reffutal. “I? I do not understand.”

Keith’s face turned serious. “It’s not futile, and we are not on different sides. I am not a part of the Galra empire, nor a supporter. I am a member of the Blade of Marmora.”

If Lance was shocked before, he was more so now. “The blade? I thought that was a myth.”

“We live in secrecy for protection.” Keith explained. “I was sent here to gather information on the alliance, on its strength. It’s why I’m here.”

“That,” Lance paused. “Well that explains that. How did you get in here though? The guards would have killed you on sight if you were spotted.”

“I managed to sneak in through the entryway amongst the other guests.” Keith stated, placing a hand on Lance’s upper arm. “As for why I am here, beside you, well… you ran off so suddenly. I know it must have been a shock, and that someone was calling for you, but I just… I needed to see you again. So I searched the estate for you, found out from a servant where you might be, and climbed the orchard walls to get to you.”

“The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb.” Lance stated, stepping closer to Keith on impulse.

“Yes, but the thought of seeing you again was good motivation.”

Lance nodded. A deep part of him was satisfied, so happy that Keith did such an arduous task just to see him again. No other motive. “So we are allies, yet will still be considered enemies. The guardsmen will kill you before you can explain, because of who you are.”

“I know.” Keith sighed. For the first time, he looked forlorn. Lance hated it, wanted to remove that look from Keith’s face permanently. “And you are a member of this estate. I’d be seen as a threat and you would be kept away.”

“Even more than usual.” Lance groaned. “My parents are already too protective. I’m barely allowed to go to the next village.”

“The odds are stacked against us.” Keith sighed.

“But.” Lance shook away the creeping doubt, firm in his resolution to stay positive, stay happy. “We are together now. We can figure this out. What we feel, we can do anything because of it.”

Lance reached up and pressed his hand to Keith’s cheek. He gazed up into his eyes imploringly, trying to search for confirmation, the knowledge that Keith felt the same about him too.

And there it was, a spark in Keith’s eyes, a hitch of a breath. Enough for Lance to swallow his fears and his doubts and ask the simple question; “Keith, do you feel that we could fall in love?”

And Keith, who smiled so softly, and held his waist again, simply said “Yes.”

What more was there to it?

Moonlight lit up the orchard, the stars shining, twinkling in the night sky. The trees were fruiting, the juniberries were in bloom. In the middle of that second-floor balcony, it all seemed so bright and serene for two lovers. They held each other close and didn’t say a word, silently pressing each other’s lips together. It was all too much, the war, the walls, the stifling collar of Lance’s shirt and the threat of never belonging, being together. Yet, that night, under the pale moonlight, they kissed and because nothing needed to be said. They could overcome all boundaries, all obstacles, because it all felt so right.

It was definitely, almost certainly, fitting.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudos or a comment, or follow me on twitter @sunnyjolras


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